So, the night went on. Much to my disappointment, Jaws was defeated and Richard Dryfuss lived on. After the movie we flicked around watching the tube for a bit, as the fine beers took their toll on my body. At around 1:30 in the morning, we called it a night. But before driving me back home,, Doug turned to me and asked, "Hey, since I'm moving, there's a lot of stuff I don't want to lug all the way to Cali with me. Do you want my Playboy collection?"
Was i really hearing this? Could this be true? A whole motherload of Playboy magazines for free? All mine??
"Yeah! I'll take them!!" I enthusiasticly answered.
"Alright. Be right back."
When he came back, he had with him a milkcrate (or storage crate, whichever term you prefer) full to the top with direct edition Playboy magazines and supplicants! There was at least 20-30 of them! And this crate was heavy!
So we headed off to Doug's car and headed to A8. It wasn't much of a haul, i was only a few miles and a few minutes away. I got out of the car, said goodnight to Doug and, feeling more-than-mildly intoxicated, headed to the door lugging my heavy crate full of mags. This thing weighed a ton, and my arms sagged whilest carrying it. However, it had gotten very cool that evening, and a light mist began to fall. I figured it'd be best to hold the crate with one hand and fumble in my pocket and get my building keys ready.
But something was wrong. I reached in my right pocket, where I ALWAYS keep my keys. They weren't there.
"Hmmm. Must be in the other pocket!" I thought. I switched hands and held the crate in my right arm, "This thing's getting heavy!" I thought, as i reached my left hand into my pocket for my keys,
Not there.
I franticly set down the crate and padded every pocket i could think of.
Nothing!
I started to panic.
"Where the hell could I have put them? Oh Shit....! I left them on the couch at Doug's place!"
I ran into the street trying to signal him. Fortunately, he was at the end of the driveway about a little more than hundred feet away, witing to turn into traffic. Unfortunately, he never saw me, and seeing it was 1:30 in the morning, i really couldn't shout for him to stop. I tried running down to the car, waving my arms and praying he didn't pull into traffic.
It didn't work.
I stood there on the side of the apartment driveway, wondering what the hell i was going to do now. I had a crate full o' porn and no way into my place whatesoever. I needed to get to a phone and call Doug's cell phone before it was too late. But where was i going to get my hands on a phone/ The nearest one was a half mile down the road at the local Honey Farms! And that was quite a hike! The first quarter mile is a hill descending at nearly a 40 degree angle! Then, it leveled off and ascended another 40 degrees! I was in no mood to have to make that trek! But what else could I do? Even if someone "buzzed" me into the building, i still couldn't get into my apartment without the keys! Even if i did, and slept outside my door, the security guard on the premises is a MAJOR PAIN IN THE ASS! If he caught me sleeping in the hall with al that pron and smelt the beer on my breth he'd have me evicted in no time flat!
So I knew I had no choice but to get my ass down to the store and get on the phone to Doug. But what about the crate? I couldn't leave it outside on the steps to the apartment! I'd never see it again! Leaving it on my back patio didn't seem like a wise idea either. (Well, at the time it didn't! I realize now that's exactly what i should have done!)
So there I was...., running down the street at two in the morning in the cold, riainy morning, half-drunk and lugging a crate full o' porn. It was one of the worst nights of my life. By the time I made it to the phone, my arms were screaming with pain, and i was desperately struggling for breath. (Thanks Phillip Morris!) The only thought running through my head was how much of a perv i must 've looked like. All i could imagine was the police getting a call complaining of "a shady-looking man at a pay phone brething very heavy, reeking of beer and carrying a stack of dirty magizines." That would've been intresting to explain.....
So I finally get on the phone and call Doug's cell phone. He picked up almost immediately. Unfortunately, using a cell phone, no matter how close you are in proximity, sometimes gets veeeeeeery choppy and full of static..
"Bello?"
"(Gasp!) Yeah, Doug it's me!"
"You forgot your keys, huh? I saw them on the couch when i got back." at this point, the phone got staticy, and i was afraid his phone would just cut out on him.
"(wheeze) I'm at Honey Farms..." ( heavy static) "...Doug?!"
"What'd you say? Honey Farms?" (more static)
At this point, behind me on the street, I heard what i thought must've been a crippled train. The sound of overstressed, beat up, dying engine rumbled through the night. i really didn't pay much attention at frist....
"(wheezing)...YEAH, DOUG! I'M...AT.....HONEY......FARMS! COME.... PICK... ME.... UP?!" I wanted to make sure he heard me through the thick static. Byt his time, the rumbling engine got louder. I turned my head to see a beat up red pickup truck roar to a stop at the redlight at the intersection. Hanging out and over the bed was a huge, rotted tree. The redneck behind the wheel rolls down the window and starts shouting, "HEY! SHE SOUNDS GOOD, EH? DOESN'T SHE SOUND GOOD? SOUDNS WONDERFUL!" he grins. At this point i glance around the intersection. It's empty. There's no one around but ME. The crazy guy in the pickup truck hauling a huge dead tree roots and all is shouting to ME!
I turned my attention back to the phone. Between the static on the line and the thunder of this guy's crapped-out engine, i was wondering if Doug could hear me at all.
"Bello?.....Hello..?
"Yeah, I'm here!"
"I'm on my way, I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Alright. See you in a few!" i shouted through the static. "...Chirst, hurry up!! " I thought to myself.
"Bye."
"Bye."
By now, the light turned green, and the man took a left hand turn, only to take another turn right into the parking lot. He gets out of the car (which sputtered to a stop some time after he'd turned it off and got out) and starts heading over to me with a broad grin on his face, still shouting, "SHE SOUNDS GOOD, HUH? SOUNDS BEAUTIFUL! DOESN'T SHE SOUND GOOD?!" I'm just standing there nodding, agreeing with him, hoping Doug gets there and gets me the hell away from this redneck as soon as possible. I'm thinking, "if this guy gets any closer, I'm just going to give him a Playboy issue to get him away from me! Hell, I'll even give him one with Sable in it if it gets him away from me."
Finally, the guy laughs and heads in the store. As he opens the door, i still hear him asking the clerk if his truck sounds good or not. A few minutes later, I see Doug's little escort on the other side of the intersection. Moments later, i was in the car, with my house keys, heading back to the comfort of my place with the crate full o' porn in my tired, worn out arms. That has to be one of my worst nights ever, and one I know i will never forget.
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